has combined with this publication. He continuation of Goop News serials will be found in this.nugiber, ° & “Ge 2 a 960 sv0 a POZTBOE gwiseomes.9e0 wee fas009 2 Oe ih TWO DISTINGUISHED FRIENDS OF THE ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY Headquarters of the Army, Washington, D. C., April 6, 1897. Howarb, AINSLEE & Co., Publishers of the Army and Navy Weekly, New York City. Gentlemen:—Such a publication as you propose would certainly be of much benefit to the youth of the country. A knowledge of the history of our country which is replete with glorious deeds of brave and patriotic men would serve to inspire them with a love of country and give them examples that they should emulate. The inculcation in the minds and hearts of our youth of love of the flag ought to be in every way encouraged. Let them become strong men physically and mentally that they may serve their country in the hour of need. To that end | wouid en- courage athletic sports carried on with a manly and magnanimous spirit. Let our boys strive to do all they can to make the name of an American citizen a still prouder title and to be one of the best and most respected. Iam, with best wishes for your success, Major GCenoral, U- S. Army. New York City, April 20,. 1897. Howarp, AINSLEE & Co., Publishers of the Army and Navy Weekly, New York City. Gentlemen:—Any publication tending to increase the patriotism of our youth is necessarily a good one. We cannot have too much love of country. Upon that foun- dation is based the very existence of the government, To-day, as in all times, the evidence of patriotism is not only in fighting for one’s country, but in upholding the law of the land. During the revolution the farmer seized his musket and went to the front; the sailor left his ship and took arms in the naval service. In these times our boys enter the government academies with the expecta- tion that some day they may be called upon to fight for the Republic. The two branches of the service—the Army and Navy—are distinct, but they have a common cause—the defence of the Union. The commissioned. officers of the American Navy are taken from the graduates: of the Naval Academy. ‘They enter there as boys fresh from home, are taught rigorously and trained with unsparing discipline for six years, and are then commissioned as en- signs in active service. The Naval Academy is a great institution, and a lad gains there not only an education fit- ting him for the naval service but for practical business life, with the addition of manliness and a sense of obedience. The life is simple, and the location of the school an excel- lent one for the purpose. I wish you success in your new venture. Etre Glow ae ae Y-~ 3 Issued weekly. Army and Navy Weekly A WEEKLY PUBLICATION FOR OUR BOYS. HOWARD, AINSLEE & CO., 238 William Street, New York. Copyrighted 1897. Editor, --- - -ARTHUR SEWALL. By subscription, $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-Class Matter at the New York Post Office CONTENTS OF THIS NUMBER: Settling a Score (Complete story), Ensign Clarke Fitch, U. S. N. Mark Mallory’s Honor (Complete story), Lieut. Frederick Garrison, U. S. A. A Wild Night-Ride (Illustrated Sketch), Winning With the Wheel (Serial), Victor St. Clair Firing Big Guns at Sea (Sketch) : Sree : A Legacy of Peril (Serial), William Murray Graydon ee : j ‘ Boys in the Forecastle (Serial), George H. Coomer Lost Among Bubbles (Sketch), St. Clair Girard The Man in the Grass (Sketch) ; : ; Items of Interest all the World Over : : : : ; : Department Editorial Chat, : : : ; : : f : ‘ Department Correspondence Column, Department Stamps Column, . . : : j : : ; : ; Department Athletic Sports, i : oes : ‘ : : : : Department Our Joke Department ~ August 7, 1897.: Voll Noo sd. _ Price, Five Cents PAGE. bo 24 27 a 37 40 41 43 44 45 45 46 47 A PRIZE CONTESE, Soe] E DESIRE to obtain the opinion of our readers on the subject of the best stories, serials and departments for the Army AND Navy WEEKLY. It is our aim to give just what is wanted and nothing else, and for that reason we now invite the readers of this publication to send us their views. To stimulate interest and invoke a friendly competition we offer ten cash prizes for the ten most sensible answers to the question: ‘‘ What are your favorite Serials, Stories -and Departments ?”” Do you prefer, for instance, a thrilling tale of adventure, or are school stories more to your taste ? Or would you rather have something his- torical, or naval, or military ? And do you, as a general tule, like present-day scenes better than those of the past ? Replies can be made either by letter or postal card. The prizes will consist of $5,00 for the best answer, $2.00 for the second best, and $1.00 each for the next eight. The contest will close Septem- ber 30th. Address ‘‘Prize Contest,”” Army AND Navy WEEKLY, HOWARD, AINSLEE & CO., No. 238 William Street, New York City. ‘SETTLIN G A SCORE; OR, Clif Faraday’s Gallant Fight, By ensiga Cliarike alghaae tac. ue. S. N. CHAPTER I. _-JUDSON GREENE MAKES A THREAT, ‘Will you fight him, Judson : a ‘*T guess yes.’ ‘‘But what if he polishes you off??? “He won't.” ‘‘You seem to be cocksure.’’ “T know what I am about, Chris Spendly. Clif Faraday isn’t so many arter all’! ‘‘But he downed you that time before we entered the Naval Academy, and his collar-bone was broken, too.’’ The speaker’s companion, a stockily- built youth with a handsome but dissi- pated face, brought his hand down upon the sill of the gun-port upon which both wete sitting, and uttered an oe of anger. ‘“‘How many. times must I tell you ae to recall that affair, Spendly,’’ he added. ‘You make me tired the way you rake up old recollections. And you never get them right, either.’’ ‘indeed 27? Chris Spendly laughed provokingly. He was slighter than Judson, but his face bore about.the same telltale marks. His eyes were shifty and small, and he had a habit of smiling mirthlessly when ad- dressed. ‘Indeed ?’’ he repeated, with a drawl. ‘‘I think I am right in this case, Judson. Clif Faraday did knock you out, and his collar bone was broken at the time. What’s the use of denying it?’ ‘‘T guess I wasn’t fit myself,’’ the sill with his knife. ‘‘I hada Genced bad leg, and you know it.’’ ‘So you said.” you long enough to see that. snarled Judson, stabbin® viciously at the wood of ‘‘And I told the truth.’”’ ‘‘But we were talking about the pres- ent case. It is all over the Academy that Clif Faraday is going to challenge you to a fight down -back of the gashouse. From all accounts, he is determined to lick you if he can. It’s rather surprising, too, as Faraday seldom picks a row.’’ “Vou seem to be speaking up for him,’’ retorted Judson Greene, with a scowl. ‘‘No, Lhate him as much as you do. But there isn’t any use in denying the truth. You know. perfectly well that Faraday is well likefl here, and that he stands high with all except. you ome ine, and possibly Conyers. ’’ ‘“He won’t very long.’’ _ Chris Spendly leaned back against- the side of the open port and glanced at his companion with half-closed eyes. ‘‘You have something in the wind, Jud,’’ he said, musingly. ‘I’ve known You wouldn’t be so unconcerned about this matter without you had some kind of a plan. And your last remark ae ats Now will you explain ?”’ ‘‘No,’? replied Green, shortly. “There ate several mysteries flying about,’’ continued Spendly, ignoring the refusal. “TI ean’t understand the sudden change in Faraday. In fact, I did not be lieve that he meant to fieht you, until heard that chum of his, Grat Wallace, : telling several of the fellows. Pe has possessed Faraday to do it? He mttst #<- have a strong reason.”’ a Judson glanced moodily. ‘out Of the. port. Now wie ae His eyes fell upon a narrow space _ of water, then a point of land upon which was erected a great brown ee : Naval Academy Ege ce in the ” ae ARMY AND ees WEEKLY. . 3 aegis another stretch of water and the spires of Annapolis. ~ He did not see all these, however. In his mind’s eye was another picture—one which caused his face to redden with something akin to shame. He knew why Clifford Faraday had resolved to whip him if it were possible. He knew that Clifford had ample justification, but he did not intend to tell Chris nor any one else. ‘(What do I know about Clifford Fara- day and his reasons,’’ he returned, sour- ly. ‘‘I understand that he intends to challenge me toa fight, and I'l] give him all hé wants, and this very day, too.’’ ‘CThis day?’ echoed Spendly, sitting up in surprise. ‘‘ What do you mean? He ean’t fight to-day. His hands are all burned. ”’ “7 can’t help that,’’ returned Judson. ‘But you wouldn’t——”’ Spendly paused and gave his thigha slap with the palm of his right hand. Then he whistled softly. “Oh, ho! Isee it now. So that is the reason “why you are so easy about the fight, eh? You intend to force him to scrap with you before his hands are well.’ Judson’s face flushed, but he did not deny the insinuation. aes coe tknow but that itis a good idea,’? continued Chris, after a pause. one fellows here won’t think very well of it, but you’ll have the satisfaction of wiping out ald scores fs Faraday—that is, if you whip him.’ Tl do that fast enough,’’ replied Judson. ‘“Oh, I don’t know. medals as a pugilist.” “J ean do you up, anyway,’’ sneered the other. Open hostilities were averted by the approach of a thin, dark lad with a not very prepossessing face. “Tsay, old chap,’’ he said, addressing Judson, ‘‘have you aepeived the chal- lenge from Faraday yet ?”’ ‘‘About the fight ?”’ te Nee >) “Not yet, Conyers,’? replied Judson, with a shrug of his shoulders. ‘‘Do you know anything about it?’” “T heard Nanny Gote, that little kid You haven’t any with the brown eyes, tell Merritt that Fara- day intended to fight you just as soon as his hands are well enough. I say, what has possessed Faraday to do it?” ‘“How do I know ??”’ ‘It’s strange. He’s not the fellow to go around looking for trouble... I guess you have riled him pretty considerably. What was it, old chap?’’ ‘““Vou fellows make me tired with your questions,’’ ‘retorted Judson, sourly. ‘“‘Raraday wants me to fight, and that’s all there is about it. He’ll have more scrapping than he wants before night. I’ve fooled with him long enough. Now I intend to. pull him down from his high horse and make the Academy see what a chump and a wind-bag he is. Vll——”’ “To what??? asked an even voice be- hind him. ‘‘Pardon me, but I heard my name mentioned while passing. And also something very like a threat. What is it, Judson Greene ?’’ CHAPTER I. CLIF SOLVES THE MYSTERY. Judson’s face was very white when he turned to confront the speaker. He in- stinctively shrank back against the port as if expecting a blow. Recovering him- self with an effort, he assumed a bluster- ing attitude to cover his trepidation. “‘Bavesdropping again, Clif Faraday ?”’ he sneered. ‘No. I chanced to be passing and I heard my name mentioned in a not very complimentary manner,’’ returned the new comer, a stalwart, handsome lad, with a frank. winning face and brown, curly hair. He was clad in the light duck working suit of a naval cadet, similar to that worn by his companions. With him were three other boys who seemed to take a lively interest in the proceedings. One, a merry youngster, with a rollicking air, stepped forward and said, pertly: : cpl] testify that I heard him call you a wind-bag, Clif.”’ ‘“And IT heard him add the distin- guished title of ‘chump’ to that, ”’ added another. ‘(He must have es talking of him- self,’ remarked a third. “(Tf ever there A was achump and a wind-bag born into this Academy it’s Judson Greene.’” ‘(Keep your opinions to yourself, Tog- gles,’ retorted Judson, “Tl sore with you for that one of these days.”’ “Better try it now before Faraday dis: poses of you. He——”’ ‘““Hxcuse me, Toggles,’’? interrupted ~ Clif, calmly, “‘but this is amy little row. You can stake out your’ diggins some other time. Now, Greene,’’ he added to Judson, his voice growing hard, ‘‘we will settle this business once for all. not desire to engaged in a fight with you nor to stir up any trouble, but I will not stand your nonsense any longer. You have chosen to go out of your way to interfere with me, and you must answer fot it:”! ‘‘Right, eh ?’? sneered Judson. Ves. font.” ‘Well, I am ready for you. As you have challenged me I have the privilege of selecting the time. I choose this even- - ing after supper.’’ Clif looked at his hands. ‘The right was bandaged, and the other bore the unmistakable marks of a severe burn. Incredulous cries came from his friends. ‘‘Want him to fight this evening, and with those hands,’’ exclaimed Toggles. You're jokino.”’ ‘*Tll bet a dollar he is not,’’ spoke up the merry-faced lad. ‘‘He knows when - he has got a good thing. And he is mean enough for anything.’ “You can say what you please, but I have the right to select the time, and I name to-night. If Faraday wants to# crawl he can. I wouldn’t be surprised.”’ Greene’s loud words brought a crowd of plebes from about decks. Anything approaching a ‘‘scrap’’ was wildly inter- esting to the new class on board the Naval Academy Receiving ship Santee. All eyes were turned on Clif. He had not taken his gaze from Jud- son, A curious smile—a smile well known to his most intimate friends—was playing about the corners of his mouth. It was the one evidence Clifford Faraday gave of strong emotion, and its presence meant action. ‘‘Do you see these, Judson Greene?” le asked, holding up his hands, ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. I have — ‘quarrel is not of my seeking, but now 2! ame, 1 won't i you oil: oy Judson gave a sullen sod: and his face : teddened slightly. © = fou “know “how < £ ue oe — | burtis, do you not?” went on Clif = = Those about him pressed forward aud = listened eagerly. They hoped that the = answer would. solve a mystery in which all were interested. The day before Ae appointees to the Naval Academy had | te es ported and been sworn in. aS - That evening the successful conte slept on board the Santee. When they — retired for the night Clifford Faraday’s hands were uninjured. Whenthe new _ plebes answered to reveille the following morning it was noticed that Faraday’s hands were badly burned. - To all questions he had maintaineda ~ strict silence. Even his intimate chum, Grat Wallace, the merry-faced lad, was . compelled to go with curiosity unsatisfied. Now the secret was to be revealed, and — Judson Greene was connected with it. The latter revelation was not unexpected by the plebes. The enmity existing be- tween Faraday and Greene was common — talk. Both were from the same city, Hore: ford, Conn., and both had competed for the appointment from that distict. Clif had won it, and at the same time made an undying enemy of Judson. The latter was the son of a wealthy Hartford banker, and he had been raised — like a spoiled child. He was thoroughly unscrupulous and determined to a his own way at any cost. — He had made several efforts to injure Faraday, but had been foiled in every case. Clif’s cheery, steadfast nature pre- vented him retaliating until finally some- -thing occurred to change his attitude. = — And that is what he had reference to when he asked Judson the question: “You know how I received — burns, do you not?” ie Greene’s color deepened. And he again resorted to bluster. ‘What are you driving at? 2 he replied, with a scowl. ‘‘Trying to makeanex- 7 cuse for not fighting, I suppose:~ You. ean’t doit, 1] promise you that. This | these that you have gone around and told everybody that you intended to challenge — He turned to Chris Spendly and Con-. -yers for support. ‘“Phat’s tight, Judson,’’ said the former... : : “Vou are as big a bully as Greene,”’ spoke up the smaller of Clif’s friends. ‘If you have anything more to say Li lick you myself.’ “P11 break you in two, confound you,”’ growled Chris, aiming a blow at the - speaker. “The latter dodged and slipped behind Toggles, from which safe refuge he shook his fist at Spendly. Grat and Toggles interfered, and Chris returned “to the port. Judson suddenly concluded that it would be a wise idea to take advantage of this little diversion, and he moved away. But he reckoned without his host. Clif confronted him and said, sternly: ‘(Not so fast, sir. I have a word to say to you. Jasked you a question but you evaded an answer. Now I will supply the answer. Boys’’—he turned to his friends —‘‘hoys, you have all wondered how I received these burns. Iwill tell you. I meant to keep it to myself, but certain happenings have caused me to change niy inind.’? ““P]] bet anything Judson Greene had something to do with it,’’ spoke up Grat. Clif nodded. : “He did. This is the story. Last night before taps I heard Judson tell Spendly and Conyers that he had succeeded in having a bottle of whisky and some cigarettes smuggled into the erounds, and that he intended to have a good time during the night.”’ A murmur of surprise ran through his listeners, and all glanced toward Greene. The fellow stood with arms folded and a ~ Jook of defiance upon his face. “J resolved to see if I couldn’t prevent him from making a fool of himself,’’ con- tinued Clif. ‘*After taps I watched from my hammock and saw him slip into the forward washroom. I followed in time to gee Judson take the grating from that little hatch and descend into the sail- locker. A moment later I looked down and saw him stretched out upon the lower deck with a lighted lantern, a book, a bottle of whisky and a package ~ ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. 0 of cigarettes. He was prepared to spend what he considered a good time.’’ — “What a chump,’’ said Toglges in dis- eust. ‘‘He was certain to be discovered. ”’ “That is what I thought,”’ replied Clif, quietly, ‘‘and I resolved to save him if possible.’’ ‘Phere is where you played the ‘heap- ing coals of fire’ act,’’ said Grat Wallace, glancing at Faraday in admiration. “Vou services were not required,’’ growled Judson, addressing Clif. “T know that. But 1 didn’t like to see — you bilged before you had been in the Academy a week.’’ : “How did you burn your hands?’ asked Nanny, with deep interest. “T am coming to that. I waited awhile, then I slipped off the grating, which he had replaced, and dropped down below. He heard me and sprang to his feet. He had drank some of his rotten poison al- ready, and it was taking an effect upon him. We had a few words, I warned him to keep quiet for his own sake, then he lurched toward me with the evident in- tention of striking me. ‘The bottle fell from his pocket upon the lamp and the whisky caught fire.’’ ‘(And you burned your hands trying to put it out,’’ exclaimed Grat, eagerly. “JT burned them while extinguishing the flames upon his trousers. He was dazed and helpless and he would have been all afire in a moment.”’ There was a brief silence, then Toggles muttered in a tone of supreme contempt: ‘And after that he is trying to force you to fight him.”’ ‘And while your hands are crippled in saving his life,’? added Grat. ‘'Boys, Judson Greene is the worse cad in the United States.’”’ Judson snapped his fingers with an assumption of indifference. His face had lost its color, however, and he evaded the glances of his companions. ‘What's the odds,’’ suddenly drawled Chris Spendly. ‘‘It isn’t Greene’s doing. Faraday challenged him.’’ . ‘And I will fight him, too,” quickly replied Clif. ‘To-night 2?’ asked Judson. “Ves, to-night.” CHAPTER Ill. ARCHIE IS OVERJOVED. A muffled cheer greeted Clif’s words, and little Nanny threw his arms about hin. ‘Bully for you,’’ he fee ‘Say, fel- lows, whoop her up for the pluckiest plebe on the Santee.” Before Nannv’s commendable request from the upper deck and a hoarse voice called down the hatch: ‘‘Lay up for drill, below there. ”’ ‘‘Tt’s the call for our first set-up drill,’’ said Togeg les, making a break for the ladder. Clif remained behind long enough to exchange a final word with Judson. “T will be at your service after sup- per,’’ he said, coldly. “And Pll see that it will be the last time you challenge me to fight,’’ sneered Greene. ‘Do you think you can use your hands in that condition ?’’ asked Grat, anxiously as he and Clif made their way to the spar- deck. “Pll have a good try at it,’’ was the calm reply. ‘IT wish you would let me take your place. I know he’s a lot stronger than I am, but I'll tackle him just the same.”? Clif smiled at his chum and placed one arm across his shoulder. ‘"You are a good fellow, Grat,’’ he re- plied. ‘‘An almighty good friend, and I appreciate your offer, but I must decline. He won’t havea walkover even if my hands are crippled.”’ “‘He’s a brute, that’s what he is, and the fellows here ought to cut him dead. . They found a junior officer of the Academy staff waiting to take them to the gymnasium. At his order the plebes fell in line and marched from the Santee to the dock. There reforming, they set out for the circular building, once a famous fort and now the site of one of the best-equipped gynasiums in the country. ‘The drill, which consisted of the many motions use- ful in converting an awkward lad into a well set-up cadet, lasted’an hour. i Toward noon the plebes were taken on A board the Monongahela, the training ship attached to the Naval Academy. ‘The “ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. could be obey ed a shrill whistle sounded ‘roomy old— vessel was receiving pe ast _ touches preparatory to the annual ¢ cruise. ‘Clif and his companions took ; aneager interest in the craft, as they knew that it was destined to be their floating home for _ several months. So engrossed were they that they forgot the absorbing topic of the morning—the fight between Clifford Faraday and Judson Greene. It was recalled to Clif before they left the Monongahela. While he was curious- _ ly examining the forward part of the top- gallant forecastle he was accosted by a : jolly, handsome cadet clad in the pictur- os esque uniform of the Academy. ‘Tsay, Clif?’ asked the new comer, eagerly, ‘‘has it been settled? Did you “send the challenge to Greene ?”? ; ‘“Hello, Archie. How in the deuce did you get over here?’’ replied Clif, greeting the cadet cordially. ‘‘I thought it was recitation hour.’ “So itis. That doesn’t cut any frost with me, dear boy. I’m a privileged character here. It’s mathematics, and Old Math. hates the sight of me. He always lets me go when I offer an excuse. But, say, how about the fight ?”” LOS settled, ‘‘Hurray! The fellows will be tickled to death. They thought Greene would funk. Now the question is, how long - will it be before your hands are fit?”’ Clit smiled. ‘“About six hours.’ Archie stared at him. ‘‘Six fiddlesticks,’’ he ‘exploded. ‘You won’t be able to use them in a scrap for three or four days.”’ ‘“That’s what Judson Greene thought, and that was the reason he insisted on to- nisht, 7) “Do you mean to say——.”? ‘There he is over there talking with — spendly. Ask him yourself.’? ~ Archie whirled about upon his heel stared hotly at the two plebes mentioned, then he made several passes in the ee with his clinched fists. “Tf that is true I’d like to fa his — face into the middle of next summer,’ he exclaimed. absurd. such a dirty trick before. news at once and——”? but Clif detained him. ‘“The cad! Why, the idea is” The Academy never heard of Ti) spread the 2.9 & He started off, : ae to give him a round myself. ‘Don’t do it, Archie, R said he. {1 wouldn’t have anything prevent this fight for the world.’ ‘*But you are not in condition, dear boy. Pie 72 give him a tussle, anyway. Don’t you see, if it is stopped he’ll hint that I had it done.”’ ‘“But everybody knows different.’’ ‘It’s a bad report to get around, nevertheless. Let it be, Archie, that’s a good fellow.’’ ‘CAll right if you insist. But I’d like It will be held down back of the gashouse ?”’ POM Gs: MY ‘And immediately after supper ?’’ Pat's the hour.) “‘T1]1 be there with the whole class. And you mark my words Judson Greene will wish he was never born. So-long.’’ He slipped down the deck and vanished over the gangway, leaving Clif smiling to himself. There was great friendship be- tween the two lads. They had met the previous summer. It had been Clif’s good fortune to rescue Archie Bland from a very serious predicament—in fact, to save his life—and the boys had been greatly attached to each other ever since. Archie—whose father was a wealthy Chicago packer—was in the third class at the Academy. Class etiquette compelled him to hold aloof from Clif in public, but he never let slip an opportunity to talk with him on the quiet. Shortly after Archie disappeared the instructor escorted the plebes back to the Santee, where they prepared for dinner. At one o’clock they marched to the dining-hall in Cadet Quarters. Clif found himself the centre of attrac- tion at his table. Many rather dark looks were cast in Judson Greene’s direction ¥ but he assuined an air of indifference and ‘ate in silence. On leaving the hall, Clif passed several seniors in front of the building. He felt that they were eyeing him, and he over- heard one say: ‘(That's the plebe. Look at his right hand. It is still bandaged. He’s a good one, and I hope he beats the liver out of fhat other plebe. We mustn’t miss iter’. ‘‘T don’t know about the liver,’’ mut- ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. tered Clif to himself. ‘‘But I hope I'll be able to teach Judson a lasting lesson.’’ es CHAPTER IV. PREPARATIONS FOR THE FIGHT. The novelty of life at the United States Naval Academy had not yet commenced to wear off with the new plebes. There were fully two-score of them from all over the country, and they were about as. raw a lot as the wooden walls of the old Santee had ever witnessed. The majority—among whom were Clif and his immediate friends and enemies— had spent several months at the prepata- tory schools maintained by private parties in Annapolis. They had become well acquainted with the Academy and its rules before enter- ing, but they had not felt the invisible hand of discipline until the day previous to the opening of this story. In the preparatory schools they were not under any. great restraint. Their hours of study were easy, and the time after the last lesson their own. ‘They lived in boarding houses and kept their own hours to a great extent. Now it was vastly different. They rose in the morning at six to the sound of the reveille gun and bugle call. They were " given a very brief period in which to lash up their hammocks, stow them away and hustle up to roll call. At seven they marched to cadet quart- ers for breakfast, and by eight o’clock they were expected to be ready for drill. This lasted until noon, then came dinner, a brief rest, and more drill until almost five. From that hour until six-thirty the plebes were permitted to roam about the grounds, play ball or tennis, and engage in innocent flirtations with the fair visit- ots from Annapolis. It was during this period of recreation that the fight between Clif and Judson was to take place. For years the battle ground of pugnacious cadets has been in a little green space back of the gashouse. One of the most peculiar facts to a visitor in connection with the Academy is that the officers on duty there never dis- cover these combats when under way. The officers themselves, from the superin- oe ARMY AND -tendent down, are graduates of the Acad- _emy, and doubtless many of them had fought upon the same spot. Yet the little affairs of honor—if they may be-so termed—go on in undisturbed rounds. First, second, third and fourth classmen and the despised plebes move toward the spot singiy and in groups; there is a suspicious absence of cadet blue from the parade ground and the buildings ; strange noises very like muffled cheering come from the vicinity of the gashouse, yet the rank and staff look serene and entirely innocent. And it is just as well. The business of a naval officer is to fight. He is engaged, trained and paid for that purpose. He is taught to be fearless, made strong by judicious exercise and impressed with the fact that his life is a draft made payable | on demand by his country. The rules and ene of the Naval Academy provide punishment for fig ht- ing among the cadets, but they are quiet- ly “overlooked. Many a boy has suddenly found a never suspected courage and prowess in that little enclosure back of the gashouse. And when word goes forth that Cadet So-and-so has strained his relationship with Cadet Someone-else to the fighting point, woe betide either if thev back out. It will mean the worst punishment upon the unwritten books of cadet oe sent to Coventry. Neither Clif nor Judson had any inten- tion of retreating. The former because he was a sturdy, honest lad with a sense of personal, if boyish, duty, and the lat- ter because he thought in his narrow soul that he had his enemy at a disadvantage. Archie Bland managed to smuggle Clif anew supply of cooling ointments and other preparations during the afternoon. Grat, Toggles, Nanny and a plebe named Joy took turns in attending to Clif’s wounded hands. Joy wasa Western lad, having been appointed from Nebraska. He was ex- tremely thin and lanky. His face ex- pressed a degree of sadness uncommon in one of his age, but his comrades soon found that it “did not convey the truth. The coming of five o clock was awaited with impatience by all. So engrossing “gashouse. NAVY WEEKLY, was the coming fight that the ot = in charge of plebe drills found more than : one occasion to rebuke his command. a Clif had oF. At iast the time arrived. placed himself in the hands of his imme-_ ‘diate friends. ‘What am I going to do?” asked little | Nanny, dolefully. ‘*Vou can wait and holler he Clie licks Judson,’ grinned Grat. Judson, accompanied by Spendly and a Conyers, was the first to leave for the scene of battle. As he passed up the ladder from the berth deck he saw Clif” undergoing the last treatment for his _ burns. As he glanced down tirough ae steps of the ladder Clif turned, and their eyes met. brought a flush to his cheeks, and he has- - tened up the remaining steps. ‘‘Faraday knows how to look his con- tempt,’’ drawled the observant Spendly. Greene muttered an oath under his breath. His conscience was almost a stranger to him, but it tingled at times. ~ And this was one of the ‘‘times.”? When Clif and his companions left the Santee they found a number of cadets casually strolling in the direction of the Archie Bland met Faraday and the others in the gun park. © ‘How are the paws now?’ he asked, anxiously. ‘‘Bad, very bad,’’ sighed ion shaking his head, ee don’t think Clif will be able to do more than lick seven kinds of euse words out of Greene.’ We'll be satisfied with that,’’ laughed Archie. He examined Clif’s hands critically, then pursed up his lips in a manner ex- pressing considerable doubt. — 7 ‘‘By George, I’m afraid you are under- taking a difficult task, old fellow,’? he said. ‘“*ooek at them. raw from the burns.’ €¢y))] do the best. I can, fe) replied Clif 3 4 | (Gome cheeriniive = ‘“You won’t be any worse off than you 2 were that time in the barn back of Bur- | bank’s preparatory school when licked Judson while your collar bone was F broken,”’ declared Grat. : Grat and Toggles were to act as his seconds, and Joy was deputized oo ‘to assist the timekeeper. Se What Judson read in that glance They are almost Se" you. pee eee: ‘ = BA nan JS SO af a ae ae = “yen if he is defeated this afternoon it won’t be a disgrace,’’ spoke up little Nanny. ‘Great Scott! look at the fellows ‘coming across the parade ground.’ Clif looked in the direction indicated, and smiled. It was evident that the com- ing fight would not lack an audience. As they turned down past the corner of the gashouse and into the place made sacred by many fistic encounters they saw that fully one-fourth of the cadet corps was present. e Clif was met by a tall, weil-formed first class man who asked brusquely : ‘Are you Mr. Faraday?” ‘fYes, sir.’ “Vou issued a challenge to a fellow plebe named Greene, did you not?” Clif bowed politely. ‘What is the. matter hands ?”? Burned.” “(How did it happen ?”’ Archie Bland, who was standing near by, stepped up at that moment and drew the tall cadet aside. He whispered to him a few moments, the non making cer- tain significant motions with his thumb toward Clif. ‘The latter saw the first class man’s face redden with surprise and anger, and he knew that Archie was explaining the affair of the sail locker. Presently the two rejoined Clif. : “This is the worst outrage I have ever met during my stay in this Academy,” hotly exclaimed the senior, glancing in Judson Greene’s direction. ‘‘If it was the proper thing for my class to fight plebes I'd give that chump a thrashing he would not forget in a hurry.”’ “Leave him to Faraday,’’ said Archie, confidently. “Introduce me to your friend,’’ said the senior. ‘‘I will be proud to know such a plucky plebe.”’ Clif found that his name was Blakely and that he conducted all ‘‘affairs of honor?’ at the Academy. later preparations for the fight were in progress. with your ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. Five minutes © CHAPTER V. A CREDIT TO THE ACADEMY. | A ring was formed under the lee of one of the buildings. It was properly staked out with ropes and other devices un- earthed from some convenient hiding place. Judson selected Spendly and Con- yers as his seconds, and Clif picked Grat and Toggles for similar service. The two principals were ordered to strip to the waist. It was seen then that both were sturdy and well set-up. But Clif was in better condition by far. Judson’s life—his cigarettes and other vices—had made his muscles flabby. He was nervous, too, and it was apparent to all that he was by no means as confident as he pretended. As Clif stepped out into the ring from the side of his seconds an involuntary cheer—hearty though subdued—came from the spectators. His breast, arms and neck were as smooth as marble, and the sitiews slipped and moved under satin skin like those of an ancient gladiator. © ‘By George!’ exclaimed Blakely, cast- ing a critical eye at Faraday, “‘he’s a wonder, a perfect wonder. ’’ “(Took at those arms,’? said another. “T tell you, fellows, he’s destined for our football and rowing crew. He’s marked for athletics.’’ ‘(And hell make his mark in them,’ exclaimed Archie Bland. ‘‘He’s as strong as an ox and he never knows when he’s had enough. Watch him polish off Greene.’ ‘“‘Vou fellows shake hands,’’ called out Blakely, addressing the principals. Clif advanced to where Judson was standing, but that yotth deliberately turned and began talking to his seconds. It was a direct insult, and a storm of hisses came from the majority of the spec- tators. The big senior impulsively sprang for- ward and caught Greene by the arm. “Did you hear what I said?’ he de- manded, hotly. ‘‘lf you don’t watch out you'll be worked out of this Academy. What is the matter with you, anyway? Trying to make yourself more unpopular with your mates than you are?”’ “What is the matter?’ stammered Jud-_ son, who saw that he had gone too far. ““] said shake hands.”’ 10 : ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY, oe Greene had only Spendly and Conyers _ . Judson sullenly extended his arm and grasped Clif’s outstretched right hand. Those standing near saw Faraday wince slightly, and they knew that Judson had perpetrated another meanness. “Tf that goes on much longer,’’ mut- tered Grat, ‘‘T1l jump in there and beat the dumb head off that brute.”’. The word to commence was given by the timekeeper. Face to face the two lads stood, silently regarding each other. Clif was calm and dignified, but Judson looked positively brutal in his evident hatred. Suddenly he lunged forward. His left arm de- scended a lightning curve just in front of Clif’s face. The latter dodged and shot out his right, landing with a thud direct- ly upon Judson’s neck. The blow sent Greene staggering back, but he recovered himself in time and made a desperate attempt to retali- ate. In his rage he forgot his guard and received another blow in almost the same spot. This last settled him and he un- ceremoniously measured his length upon the ground. “First knock-down for called out the referee. It required all the cautioning powers of the seniors to prevent the audience from breaking into a wild cheer. Archie Bland danced up and down like a monkey on a hot plate. He shied his cap at an- other third classman and followed it u with a delirious challenge. Faraday,”? Judson slowly scrambled to his feet and eyed Clif wickedly. ‘The latter was in readiness, but he held his hands as if _ they pained him. And they undoubtedly did. Judson advanced to the centre and, feinting with his left, quickly followed it with a swinging right hander, It caught Clif squarely in the temple and it was his turn to stagger. Before Greene could continue the timekeeper announced the end of the round. S A babble of voices broke out, but the noise was quickly checked. Clif and Jud- soon were taken to their respective cor- ners at once, audience were with the former. He was instantly surrounded by the majority of the cadets, and praised highly for his share in the round The sympathies of the to console him. ‘Here, let me see those hands, young- _ _ ‘Great os Scott! you can’t fight with them in that -condition,’’ he added, emphatically. 2 Several first and second class men had approached with him, and they echoed ster,’’ said Blakely to Clif. his words. Clif’s hands were raw and bleeding where the first healing had been broken open by the violent exercise. ‘‘No, this fight must stop now,’? added — “Here, you? < the big senior. “No, it will not stop,’ suddenly inter- rupted. Clit. tinues.’”’ He spoke clearly and firmly, and the words reached the ears of Judson and his cronies in the opposite corner. They looked up and whispered together for a brief moment, then Judson advanced and said sullenly to Blakely: . = ‘Tm willing to stop if he wants to, His hands are not fit for use, and ——?? “No, I will not stop,’’ repeated ‘Clif, his eyes blazing. ‘I demand that the fight continues. ’? Blakely shrugged his shoulders. “Mery well. ‘Times up, He: said, “*Get to work. As he walked over to his station he said in a low voice to Archie Bland: ‘That friend of yours is about as nervy as they make ’em. -If I was a betting man I’d stake my last sock on him.’ The timekeeper held two old belay- - ing-pins in his hands. ‘These he struck together in lieu of a bell. As the metal- lic sound echoed across the little space the two combatants met in the centre of the ting. And now it speedily became appar- ent that warm work could be expected. Judson was rather pale and nervous, but the only evidence Clif gave of emo-— ee tion was a peculiar smile—a smile with nothing of mirth in it. They sparred warily for a moment, then both clutched simultaneously. They broke away at the demand of the referee, then came an ex- change of blows that did little damage. _ stacy of joy. ‘“Hurray!? yelled Nanny, in an ec- He was promptly sat upon by a oo class man, and warned that he would be thrown out neck and crop if he raised his a yoice above a whisper again. =~ ‘fT demand that it con-~ In the meantime Judson and Clif were at it hot and heavy. Judson led first, shooting out with his left, but it was cleverly evaded, then Clif countered on ie his antagonist’s ribs with a blow that re- sounded all over the ring. “a _ This brought forth a storm of muffled applause, and the noise wrought Judson into a fury. Disregarding all caution he made arush and struck out with both hands, landing on the empty air. Before Clif could do more than tap him lightly, the round ended. Greene panted with evident distress as he walked to his corner. Clif was still cool, but his hands were in very bad con- dition. Blakely examined them and said confidently : ‘(Hind it in the next round if you can, youngster. You won’t be able to do much more with those paws. Egad! I can’t imagine how you manage to use then 45 it is.” The sound of the make-shift bell ‘brought the two lads to the front once more. Both sparred cautiously for a mo- ment, then Judson let go both right and left, the latter catching Clif upon the mouth. and did no damage. ‘‘Bully for you,’’ called out Spendly from his corner. ‘‘Give him another hke that, Juddy.” : ‘Keep that trap of yours shut or Pll ) close it for repairs,’’ retorted Grat- 4 Chris replied with a scowl. There was » \ no time for further repartee. Out in the * centre of the ring Judson and Clif had clinched. As they broke away the latter gave a leap and caught Greene a terrific right-hander directly upon the jaw. As Judson staggered back, wildly beating the ait with his hands, Clif followed with one, two, three upon Judson’s cheek, breast and temple. The blows sounded in the stillness like i the thuds of ahammer. A gasping cry i ~ eame from Greene and he sank to the eround like a log. And like a log he laid there with Clif standing over him. Amida breathless silence the time- keeper called out monotonously: ‘One, two, three, four——”’ ' Spendly and Conyersjrushed to Judson’s side and tried to lift him to his feet. He was a dead weight in their hands. They It was feebly given, however, - te ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. 1 applied water in a frantic effort to revive him. ‘ | . ‘Hive, six—-—’’ continued the time- keeper, inexorably. Judson lifted his head in a dazed man- ner. ‘Get up, confound it,’’ cried Spendly. “Get up, will you. They are counting you——’’ E , ‘‘Seven, eight—time is up.’’ “‘T declare Clifford Faraday the win- ner,’’? came from the referee amid a burst of subdued applause. ‘‘Gamest fight on Faraday’s part I ever saw, exclaimed: Blakely. 9‘ ‘He's” a credit to the Academy. He beats any- thing for sheer downright pluck and— what’s up now ?”’ Archie, who had rushed forward to. congratulate Clif, reached him just in time to see hin: sway unsteadily. Willing arms caught the lad, and he was:lowered to the ground within a few feet of his antagonist. A cadet with some knowledge of medi- cal needs bent over him, then straightened up with a jerk. ~ “*Fe’s fainted, and no wonder, cried. ‘‘Look at his poor hands. are taw to the quick!’ ” he ‘They e That evening at mess formation the eyes of the different officers on duty were directed to the faces of Clif and Judson with ill-concealed curiosity. Both bore undeniable marks of the conflict, but Greene’s was the worst cut up. Clif revealed as his trophy a_ badly swollen left eye and a bruise upon the opposite temple. The marks of his fist were plainly apparent upon Judson’s face, which abounded in lumps and abrasions and discolorations. As the plebes left the dining hall Clif chanced to pass Blakely and a half dozen other first classmen, who were standing in front of cadet quarters. The big senior reached out and placed his hand upon Clif’s shoulder: ‘T want to congratulate you, plebe”’ he said in a low voice. ‘‘You are a brick. We'll keep you in mind from now on.’’ Clif blushed with pleasure. He had been long enough in the Academy to — fully appreciate the honor of praised by a senior. being a < ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY = == 3 oe ‘We won’t do a thing to that chump you were fighting with,’’ spoke up an- other cadet. ‘‘He’s not the kind of stuff we want here. .I’1] stake my hopes ofa commission he won’t last until the end of the month?’ “T wish you would give him another chance, “sir,” replied Cit eartiestly. ‘*He’s a little overbearing and all that, but he'll get over it. Suppose you let him off for a month. lJ ask it as a per- sonal favor.’? ‘fAsk it as a personal favor?’’ echoed Blakely, in surprise. ‘‘I thought Greene was a bitter enemy of yours.”’ ‘“We are not very good friends,’’ con- fessed Clit, with a smile... ‘But, ~ he added, ‘‘I wouldn’t like tosee him driven irom the Academy.” ‘You are a tum one, I must say. You first punch a fellow’s head, then plead for him, Well, we’ll think it over.”’ As Clif wateed away, Blakely added with a subdued whistle: = ‘Did you ever see the beat of ae say, fellows, that plebe will be ee eae from in this Academy, mark my words. By George: his heart is as big as his. = nerve. ‘We'll go easy with him when we haze the new PIES: eh?” chuckled an-_ other senior. “*No; he must take his medicine wk ~ the rest. And he'll stand: 4t ike a5. trooper, too. But if anyone gets full measure it will be that fresh duck, Jud- son Greene. Come on, fellows, it’s time for study.’’ [THE END. ] In the next nuinber (9) of the Army and Navy Weekly will be found ‘Clif Faraday’s Defiance; or, Breaking a Ca- — det Rule,’ by Ensign Clarke Hiteh, Us SNe oe Bw Lieut. CHAPTER 1. A ‘*YEARLING’’? MEETING. The whole class came to the meet- ing. ‘There hadn’t been such an import- ant meeting at West Point for many a day. The yearling class had been out- rageously insulted. ‘The mightiest tradi- tions of the Academy had been violated, ‘trampled beneath the dust,’’ and that by two or three vile and uncivilized ‘“beasts’’—‘‘plebes’’—new cadets of scarcely a week’s experience. And the third class, the yearlings, by inherent right the guardians of West Point’s honor, and the hazers of the plebe, had vowed that those plebes must be punished as never had plebes been punished before. The first and third classes of cadets had gone into summer caimp the previous day, immediately after the graduation exercises. From that date, the middie of June, to July 1 they have a comparative holiday, with no drills and no duties ex-_ cept guard-mounting, dress parade toward evening, and inspections. And it was during the first of the holiday mornings that the above-mentioned ‘‘meeting’’ was held, beneath the shady trees of Trophy Point, a short ways from the camp. “1 move, shouted a voice in the crowd, ‘‘that we elect Bud Smith chair- man.”’ é The motion was carried with a shout, and Bud Smith, just out of hospital by the way, was ‘‘boosted’’ up onto one of the guns, which served as the ‘‘chair.” Bud Smith was a tall, heavily-built youth with a face covered by court plaster and ‘‘contusions,’’ as the results Mark Mallory’s Honor ; OR, A WEST POINT MYSTERY: Rrederick Garrisom, U.S. Ae of a West Point fight, are officially desig- nated by the hospital surgeon. ‘“This meeting will please come to order,’? said the chairman. ‘‘And the gentlemen will oblige me by keeping quiet and not compelling me to use my voice much. For I am—er—not feeling very well to-day.’’ And Bud illustrated his statement by gently mopping his ‘‘contusions’’ with a damp handkerchief. ‘(We have met,’’. began the chairman as soon as this formality was over. ‘‘We have met, I believe, to consider the cases of three ‘‘beasts,’’ Powers, Stanard and Mal- lory, by name (a low groan from the class), and to consider the best method of re- ducing them to submission. I don’t think it is necessary for me to restate the complaints against them for you are probably all as familiar with the incidents as I. Powers, or as he calls himself Jere- miah, son o’ the Honorable Scrap Pow- ers, 0’ Hurricane County, Texas, must be disciplined because he fails to under- stand what is expected of him. He dared to order a superior officer out of his room, and last Monday morning he succeeded in defeating no less than four men in our class—myself among them.’’ And Cadet Smith again mopped his “contusions,’’ and went on. ‘COf course we have got to find some- body to whip him. Then, too, Stanard lost lis temper and attacked half a dozen of our class, for no other reason on earth than. that they tied him in asack and carried him out onto the cavalry plain. He, too, was victorious, 1am told. And then, last of all, but of all the offenders most insolent and lawless, comes——’’ The chairman paused solemnly before he pronounced the name. ‘(Mark Mallory.’? And the storm of hisses and jeers that followed could have been heard at Bar- racks. It was evident that the yearlings had no love for Mark Mallory, whoever Mark Mallory might be. : ‘‘Mark Mallory commenced his tricks,’’ the chairman continued, ‘‘even before he was a cadet. He was impudent then. And the other day he dared to act as Powers’ second. And worse than all yesterday, to show how utterly reckless and B. J. he is, he deliberately locked Bull Harris and Baby Edwards up in an ice house, with the intention of making them absent at taps and compelling them to remain imprisoned all night. It was only by the merest accident their suc- ceeding in forcing the door, that this plan was frustrated. Now, gentlemen, this thing is about as serious as it can possibly be. . Mark Mallory’s conduct. shows that he’s gotten the idea into his head that not only can he avoid being _-hazed, but even turn the tables upon us and bid us defiance. His attack upon the two cadets was absolutely unprovoked. Bull told me personally that he had not attempted to haze him, and had not even spoken to him. It was a pure case of freshness and nothing else. And he’s got to be licked for it until he can’t stand up.” os Bud Smith finished his speech amid a . round of applause, and the fell to sooth- ing his ‘‘contusions’’ again. It may as well be stated here that Bull Harris’s account of the incident that was _ just now causing so much talk was an absolute lie. Bull and his gang had made an attempt to lock Mark up, and had failed, and been locked up themselves ‘instead. That was all. But Bull and his igang saw fit to omit that part of the story. It was safe, for no one could gain- say it; Mark’s account was not asked for. ‘‘T move, Mr. Chairman,’’ said Cor- poral Jasper, rising, ‘‘that inasmuch as Mallory seems to be the leader of this fool business that we lick him first, and that, too, to-morrow morning. For it’s growing worse every minute. The plebes A a ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. are getting so downright B. J. that a — fellow can’t even give an order without fearing to be disobeyed. To-morrow morning, I say. And I call for some one to volunteer. ’’ oe Ce , The young officer’s motion took the crowd’s fancy. ee : “Who'll fight him?* Who’ll fight him ?’’ became the cry, and was followed by achorus of names offered as sugges-~ tions. One was predominant, and seemed to be the most popular. ‘Williams! Billy Williams. Bully! Speech!” And ‘‘Billy”’ arose from the ground as the cry grew louder, and said that he was ‘‘very much honored,’’ and that if the — class really selected him he would be most happy to do the best he possibly could. ‘‘Hooray! Billy’s going to lick him! ’Ray for Billy.’ . ‘IT move, Mr. Chairman, that a com- mittee be appointed to convey the chal- lenge in behalf of the class.’’ ‘“Carried,’’ said the chattman. ‘{1 ap- point Corporal Jasper and Cadet Spencer. This meeting stands adjourned.”? ~ And the yearlings scattered bearing _ Get up, « ‘Billy Willams’? off in triumph. oa CHAPTER If IN WHICH THE CHALLENGE IS ACCEPTED. The comsnittee, much as it hated to, was obliged to delay the sending of the challenge. There were two reasons: in the first place, Mark Mallory, together -with the rest of. the plebes, was being bullied and tormented just. then in the coutse of a squad drill; and in the second place, one of the committee, Cadet Spencer, was engaged in doing the bully- ing, having been appointed ‘‘on duty over plebes.’’ a After supper, however, came a blissful half hour of rest to the last-named unfor- tunates; and then the three yearlings gathered together, took on an extra quan- tity of dignity and sallied forth to find the three os [ea Z (B. J., it may be added, is West Point © for fresh, and stands for ‘‘before June.’’) Entering Barracks the committee made — straight for Mark Mallory’s room and ~ knocked. ee ‘Come in thar!’ shouted a voice. ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. - 15 There were four occupants in the room. One was a round, fat-faced. boy with an alarmed, nervous look, Cadet Joseph Smith, of Indianapolis, commonly known as ‘‘Indian.”’ In a chair by the window sat: a still more curious figure, a lank bony indi- vidual with ill-fitted straying clothes and a long sharp face. Upon his big bulging knees rested a leather-bound volume, labelled ‘*Dana’s Geology,’’ and opened at the Tertiary fossiliferous strata of the Hudson River Valley. ‘‘Parson’’? Peter Stanard, for it was he, was too much interested to notice the entrance of the cadets. He was try- ing to classify a Cyatho phylloid coral -which he had just had the luck to find. Sprawled upon the bed was another tall, slender fellow, his feet hoisted up on the pile of blankets at the foot. All the committee saw of ‘‘T’exas,’’? was a pair of soles, for Texas didn’t care to move. The fourth party was a handsome, broad-shouldered chap, with curly brown hair. And to him Corporal Jasper, the spokesman addressed himself. ‘(Mr. Mallory ?’’ said he. Mr. Mallory bowed. “We have come as a committee repre- senting the yearling class. ’’ “(TY am honored,’’ said Mr. Mallory. ‘‘Pray do not feel so in the least,’’ said _ Corporal Jasper, witheringly. ‘‘The class desires to express, in the first place, its entire displeasure, both asa class and as individuals, at your unprovoked conduct toward two of its members.”’ “Um, said Mark, thoughtfully. “And did the two members tell you the attack was unprovoked ?”” “They did.’ ‘(Then I desire to express, in the first place, my entire displeasure, both as a class and as an individual at being thus grossly misrepresented.’’ “Bully !? came the voice from behind the mattress. ‘‘Durnation!”’ ‘(Tn short,’’ continued Mark, ‘‘I desire to cali the statement of Messrs. Harris and Edwards a downright, unmitigated and contemptible lie.”’ ‘‘Sock it to em!’ chuckled the voice from the mattress. ‘‘Durnation!’’ _ ‘(Well put!’ added ‘‘Parson’’ Stanard. ‘Worthy of the great Patrick Henry himself. ”’ f ‘Bless my soul!’?? chimed Indian, - ready to run. : Cadet Jasper took it coolly,like the gentleman he was. = ‘It is customary, Mr. Mallory,’’ he said, calmly, ‘‘for a man to have to earn the right to call a higher class man a liar.’ ‘IT am quite ready, sir,’’? responded Mr. Mallory. ‘That is fortunate. The class offers you such an opportunity. We are directed to bring a challenge from Cadet Williams - of the third class, to meet him at Fort™ ‘Clinton at four o’clock to-morrow morn- ing.’ “YT will consider it a favor,’’ said Mark, politely, ‘‘if you will be good enough to inform the class tiat I am ‘most happy to accept.’’ ‘An? look a yere,’’ cried Texas, raising his head and peering out between his feet. ‘‘Look a yere! Whar do I come in this durnation bizness ??’ ‘““Vour seconds?’’ inquired Jasper, not noticing the interruption. ‘‘Mr. Powers and Mr. Stanard.”’ ‘(And is there any other information ?”’ ‘None, ‘“‘Remember, Fort Clinton at four A. M. 2 “T shall be there without fail. And I thank you for your trouble in the matter.” Cadets Jasper and Spencer bowed and withdrew, while the four ‘‘beasts’’ sat and looked at one another in silence. ‘Well,’ said Mark, at last, ‘‘what do you think of it?”’ : ‘Think 2?) growled Texas. ‘Il think it’s a gosh durnation skin, that’s what J think. An’ it’s jest like you an’ your luck, Mark Mallory !”’ And so saying, Vexas kicked the mattress off the bed. “Tf you don’t do that feller Williams, whoever he is, in the first round, I'll kick you out an’ do it myself!’ ‘But who is this Williams?’’ inquired Mark, as he picked up the mattress and threw it at Texas. ‘‘Does anybody here know ?”’ ‘“(T do,’’? said the ‘‘Parson,’’ reverently depositing Dana on the floor. ‘‘I do know, 16 >> = ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. and I shall, forsooth, be very happy to tell you about him. Williams is, in the first place, as to physical proportions, the largest man in his class; in the second place, he is the best all-round man——”’ ‘All round like Indian?’’ inquired Texas, gravely. 3 “Inasmuch as,’? continued the ‘‘Par- son,’’ ‘*he won a considerable proportion of the Olympic contests, which are cele- brated here under the designation of ‘the Spring games.’ ‘That sounds promising,’’ said Mark, thoughtfully. ‘‘I wonder if he can fight. ” ‘‘As to his pugilistic abilities, Jam by no means so accurately informed, but if nly conjecture be of any value whatso- ever I should be inclined to infer from the fact that our enemies, the representa- tives of tyranny and oppression, who are endeavoring to reduce us to submission, have selected him as their champion and representative in arms, that——”’ “He's a beaut,’’ put in Texas, to save time. ‘‘And I only wish I’d had Mark’s luck. 2 ‘‘And I wish,’’ added the Boston student, ‘‘that I could contrive to account for the presence of this Cyashodhylloid fossil in a sandstone of Tertiary origin.’’ odt-was not: very lous after this that ‘“tattoo’’? sounded. But before it did the little band of rebels up in Barracks, had time to swear eternal fealty, and to vow by all that man held holy tobe present ‘‘at Fort Clinton at four A. M. to-morrow,”’ thereas the ‘‘Parson”’ classically put it, to fire a shot for freedom that should be heard around the world. Mark swore it, and Indian, too; Texas swore it by the seven- teen guns which were stowed away in his trunk, and by the honor of his father, ‘*the Honorable Scrap Powers, o’ Hurri- cane County ;’’? and Peter Stanard swore it by Bunker Hiil and yea, even by Lamachus, he of the Gorgon’s crest.”’ And then the meeting adjourned. CHAPTER HE IN WHICH MARK GETS A MYSTERIOUS VISIT. These were days of work for the plebes at West Point—days of drilling and prac- tising from sunrise to night, until mind and body were exhausted. And it usually happened that most of the unfortunates 2 were already sound asleep by the time “tattoo”? was sounded, that is, unless the unfortunates had been still ies | tunate, unfortunate enough to fall into the clutches of the merciless yearling. When ‘*taps” came half an four later ~ meaning lights out and all quiet, there — was usually scant need for the round of the watchful ‘‘tac,’’ as the tactical officer is designated. It happened so on this night. The “tac” found all quiet except for the snoring. And this duty over, the officer made his way to his own home; and after that there was nothing awake except the lonely sentry who marched tirelessly a and down the halls. The night wore on, the moon rose and shone down in the silent. area, making the shadows of the gray stone building stand out dark and black. And the clock on the guardhouse indicated the hour of | eleven. It was not very many minutes more before there was a dark shadowy form, stealing in by the eastern sally-port, anid hugging closely the black shadows of the wall. He paused, whoever it was, when he reached the area, and waited, listen- ing. The sentry’s tramp grew clear and then died out again, which meant that the sentry was back in the hallway of Barracks, and then the shadowy. form stepped out into the moonlight and ran swiftly and silently across the area and sprang up the steps to the porch of the | building; and there he stood and waited — again, until once more the sentry was far away—then stepped into the doorway and crept softy up the stairs. The strange midnight visitor was evidently some one who knew the place. He knew just the room he was going | to, also; for he wasted not a moment’s _ time, but stole swiftly down the hall, and — stopped before one of the doors. It was the room of Cadets Mallory and Powers. Doors at West Point are never locked; thete afte no keys. crouched and listened cautiously. A sound of deep and regular breathing came from within, and hearing it, he softly — opened the doot, entered and then just as ee Havine | attended to this he crept toonecfthe | catefully shut it behind him. The strange visitor ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. : 17 beds. He seemed to know which one he wanted without even looking; it was Mark Mallory’s. And then the stranger leaned over and gently touched the occu- pant. The occupant was sleeping soundly, for he was tired; the touch had no effect upon,him. ‘The visitor tried again, and harder, this time with success. Mark Mallory sat up in alarm. **Ssh! Don?t make a sound,’’ whis- pered the other. ‘‘I’ve got a message for you. Ssh!’ arose and joined the boy at the window. / (\ Here?’ said the boy): theadig 7! And so saying, he shoved a note into the other’s hand. Mark took it hurriedly, tore it open and read it. It took him but a moment to do so, and when he finished his face was a picture of amazement and incredulity. ‘‘Who gave you this?”’ he demanded, angrily. ‘‘Ssh!’? whispered the boy, glancing fearfully at the bed where Texas lay. “Ssh! You may wake him. She did.’ | POWERS |: lw g iMALLORY | EM A Tf HA | Ne ; Ra i Ha i AN ii by \ —— es ————— — SS a SSS SS FSS ZS ZEES ZS. = SSS ? SEL VE SE S LEZ = GEESE ZS Zs yl ee I 1 oe WA : S \ ! \ Hi 2 = GA ee MNjEEE ; cbse —— Z| iN y aN ! ae a ss ZZ — ‘MR. MALLORY,’’? SAID CORPORAL JASPER, ‘‘WE ARE DIRECTED TO BRING A CHALLENGE FROM CADET WILLIAMS TO FIGHT HIM AT FORT CLINTON TO-MORROW MORNING AT FOUR O’CLOCK,’’ It is enough to alarm any one to be awakened out of a sound sleep in ‘such a manner, and at such a time; and Mark’s heart was thumping furiously. ‘Who are you?’’ he whispered. The figure made no answer, but crept to the window, instead, where the moon- light was streaming in. And Mark recog- nized him instantly as one of the small drum orderlies he had seen about the post. Half his alarm subsided then, and he “Now, look here!’’ said Mark, in a recklessly loud voice, for he was angry, believing that the boy was lying. ‘‘Now, look here! I’ve been fooled with one letter this way, and I don’t mean to be fooled again. Ifthis is a trap of those cadets, as sure as I’m alive I’ll report the matter to the superintendent and have you court-martialed. Remember! And now I give you a chance to take it back. If you tell me the truth Pll let you go ‘18 ARMY AND NAVY WHEKLY, ‘unhurt. Now once more, who gave you this?” And Mark looked the trembling boy in the eye; but the boy still clung to his story. ‘She did, indeed she did, »» he pro- tested. ‘Where?’ asked Mark. *‘Down at her house. ’’ ‘Why were oo there: Wel dive there, Mark stared. at the boy for a moment more, and bit his lip in uncertainty. Then he turned away and fell to pacing up and down the room, muttering to himself. (Ves? he said, “‘yest 2 believe sie wrote it. But what on earth can it mean? What on earth can be the matter ?’’ Then he turned to the boy. “Do you know what she wants?” he inquired ?”’ ‘No, sir,’’? whispered the other. ‘‘Only ‘she told me to show you the way to her house.’ ‘Ts anything the matter?’ “I don’t know; but a looked very pale.”’ And Mark turned away once more and fell to pacing back and forth. i Shatl l cor he mused, It’s beyond cadets limits. If I’m caught it means court-martial and expulsion. There’s the ‘blue book’ on the mantel staring at me fora warning. By jingo! I don’t think I’11 risk it!”’ He turned to the boy about to refuse the request; and then suddenly came an- other thought—she knew the danegr as well as he! She knew what it meant to go beyond limits, and yet she had sent for him at this strange hour of the night, and for him, too, a comparative stranger. Surely, it must be a desperate matter, a matter in which to fail was sheer pouagle ice. At the same time with the thought there rose up before him a vision of a certain very sweet and winsome face; and when he spoke to the boy, his answer was: oO. He stepped to the desk and wrote hastily on a sheet of paper this note to ‘Texas. Explain Mark.’’ “DIL be back in time to fight. later. ‘Trust me. ‘Shall I go? This he laid on the bureau, and then silently but quickly put on his clothes and stepped to the door with the boy. Mark halted for a moment and glanced about the room to make sure that all was well and that Texas was asleep, and then he softly shut the door and turned to the boy. : ‘‘How are we going to get out?’ he - demanded. ‘‘Come,’’ responded the other, setting the example by creeping along on tiptoe. Come? They halted again at the top of the stairway to wait until the sentry was ~ gone; and then stole down and dodged outside the door just as the latter turned and marched back. Flattened against the wall, they waited: breathlessly, while he approached nearer and nearer; and then he halted, wheeled and went on. At the same moment the two crept quiclky across the area and vanished in the dark- — ness of the sally-port. “oNw,’’ said the drum boy as they - came out the other side, ‘‘here we are. Come on. : Mark oe and followed him swiftly down the road toward Highland Falls, and quiet once more reigned about the post. a There was one thing more that needs to be mentioned. It was a very simple incident, but it was destined to lead toa great deal. It was merely that a gust of wind blew in at the window of the room where Texas slept, and seizing the sheet of paper upon which Mark had written, . lifted it gently up and dropped it softly and silently behind the bureau, whither also Mark had thrown the other note. And that was all. @ CHAPTER, AV, IN WHICH TROUBLE IS GROWING FOR MARK, . Time has a way of passing very hur- riedly when there is anything going to happen, especially if it be something dis- agreeable. The hands of the clock had been at half-past eleven when Mark leit. It took them almost no time to hurry on to midnight and not much longer to get totwo. And from two it went on to three, and then to half-past. The black- ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. 19 ness of the night began to wane, and the sky outside the window to lighten with the first gray streaks of dawn. Not long after this time up in one of the rooms on the second-floor of Barracks, Division 8, the occupant of one of the rooms began to grow testless. For the occupant had promised himself and others to awaken them. And awaken he did suddenly, and turned over, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. ‘*Mark! Oh, Mark!’ he called, softly. , Git up, thar! It’s time to be hustlin’.”’ There was no answer, and Texas got up, yawning, and went to the other bed. “Git up, thar, you durnation prize fighter, you!’ : And as he spoke he aimed a blow at the bed, and the next moment he started back in amazement; for his hand had touched nothing but a mattress,° and Texas knew that the bed was empty. ' Daruation |) > he, muttered, °) He's gone without me!”’ And with this thought in his mind he rushed to his watch to see if he were too late. No, it was just ten minutes to four; and ‘Texas started hastily to dress, won- dering at the same time what on earth could have led Mark to go so early and without his friend. ‘’That was the goldurndest queer trick I ever did hear of in my life, by jingo!”’ It took him but a few short moments to fling his clothes on; and then he stepped quickly across the hall and entered a room on the other side.. ‘‘T wonder if that durnation Parson’s gone with him,’’ he muttered. The ‘‘ Parson’ had not; for Texas found him engaged in encasing his long, bony legs in a pair of trousers that would have held a dozen such. ‘‘Are you accoutred for the combat?’’ he whispered in a sepulchral tone, sleep- ily brushing his long black hair from his eyes. ‘‘Where is Mark ?”’ ‘he durnation fool’s gone up there , without us!’’ replied Texas, angrily. ‘(Without us!’?? echoed Stanard, in- credulously, sliding into his pale sea- green socks. ‘(Bless my soul!’? echoed a voice from the bed. (Indian was too sleepy to get up) ‘‘Bless my soul, what an extraordi- nary proceeding.”’ “Come on,?” said) Vexas: 7 barry up! The ‘‘Parson’’ snatched up his coat and made for the door. Ol think, said be, aaltmg at ie door in hesitation. ‘‘I think Il] leave my book behind. Ill hardly need it, do you think ?”? ‘‘Come on!’’ growled Texas, impa- tently. i) Woayaup, ? Texas was beginning to get angry, as he thought over Mark’s ‘‘fool trick. ’? The two dodged the sentry without much trouble; it is probable that the sen- try didn’t want to see them, even if he did. They ran hastily out through the sally port and across the parade ground, Texas in his impatience dragging his long-legged companion in tow. ‘They made a long detour and approached Fort Clinton from behind the hotel, in order to avoid the camp. Hearing voices from inside the embankment Texas sprang hastily forward, scrambled up the bank, and peered down into the enclosure. V Wlere tuey are,” (called one ofthe cadets; and then as he glanced at the two he added. ‘‘But where’s Mailory ?”’ And Texas gazed about him in blank amazement. Whereis her’) he echoed: ‘Where is he? Why, durnation, ain’t he yere?”’ It was the cadets’ turn to look sur- prised. rete TALere) ‘‘Hain’t seen wild with vexation. Durnation!”’ ‘‘Wasn’t he in your room?’’ inquired somebody. ‘‘No. He was gone! I thought of course he’d come out yere.’’ And ‘Texas fell to pacing up and down inside the fort, chewing at his finger nails and muttering angrily to himself, while the yearlings yathered into a group and speculated as to what the strange turn in the affair could mean. ‘It’s ten to one he’s flunked,’’ put in Bull Harris, grinning joyfully. Some such idea-was lurking in Texas’ mind, too, but it made him mad that any of his enemies should say it. “‘Tf he has,’’? he bellowed, wheeling about angrily and facing the cadet. ‘‘If echoed Corporal Jasper. Why we haven’t seen him.’ him’!. toared. ‘Texas, ‘“What in thunder! 20 * ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY, he has it’s because you’ve tricked him again, you durnation ole white leg ged scoundrel you!”’ Texas doubled up his fists and looked ready to fight right then; Bull Harris but Jasper opened his mouth to answer, interposed : ‘*That’s enough,’’ said he. settle this some other time. The ques- tion is now about Mallory. You say, Mr. Powers, you’ve not the least idea where he is?”? “iit Wad. vespouded Texas. ti} had, d’you think I’d be hyar?’’ Jasper glanced at his watch. ‘‘It’s five minutes after now,’’ said he, ‘“‘and py He got no further ’ for Texas started forward on a run. *‘!’m a goin’ to look fo’ him!’’ he an- nounced. And then sprang over the em- bankment and disappeared, while the ca- dets stood about waiting impatiently, and speculating asto what Mark’s conduct could mean. Poor Stanard sat sprawled out on top of the earthworks, where he had sat down in amazement and confusion when he discovered that Mark was not. on hand; and there he sat yet, too much amazed and confused still to move or say anything. Meanwhile ‘T'éxas was hurrying back to barracks with all the speed he could command, his mind in a confused state of anxiety and doubt and anger. ‘The posi- tion of humiliation in which Mark’s con- ‘duct had placed him was gall and worm- wood to him, and he was fast working himself up into a temper of the Texas style. He rushed up stairs, forgetting that such thing as a sentry existed. He burst into the room and gazed about him. The place. was empty still; aud Texas . Slammed the door and marched down- stairs again, and raced back to the fort. The cadets were still waiting impa- tiently, for it was a good while after four by this time. ‘fFind him ?’? they inquired. ‘No, I didn’t!’? snapped Texas. ‘No fight then,’’ said Jasper. evident he’s flunked.”’ Durnation!? cried Texas: What’s the matter with me ?"’ ‘“We can det! sd ‘*No fight! And suiting the action to the word he oe ae off his coat. ‘‘Not to-day,’’ responded Jasper, with : decision. “You'll have your enaacs an- other day.” ‘‘Unless you run home too,’’ sneered Harris. Texas’ face was a fiery red with anger, and he doubled his fists and made a, leap for the last speaker. ‘“You durnation coyote!’’ he roared. ‘‘You an’ me’ll fight now!’ Bull Harris started back, and before Texas could reach him half a dozen ca- | dets interfered. Williams, the would-be defender of his class, seized the half wild fellow by the shoulders and forced him back. ‘“‘Tust take it easy,’? he commanded. ‘‘Just take it easy. You’ll learn to con- trol yourself before you’ve been here long.”? ‘Texas could de nothing, for he was surrounded completely. Bull Harris was led away and then the rest of the cadets scattered to steal into camp, but Texas snatched up his coat ina rage, and strode away toward Barracks, muttering angrily to himself, the ‘‘Parson’’ following be- hind in silence. The latter ventured to interpose a remark on the way and Texas turned upon him angrily. ‘‘Shut up!’ he growled. ‘‘Mind your business !”? _Stanard gazed at him in silence. ‘*T guess 1] have to knock him down gain,’’ he said to himself. But he didn’t, at least not then; and Texas pranced up to his room and ‘flung himself into a chair, muttering uncom pli- mentary remarks about Mark and West Point and everything init. It was just half-past four when he entered, and for fifteen minutes he sat and pounded the floor with his heel in rage. ‘Texas was about as mad as he knew how to be, which was very mad indeed. And then suddenly there was a step in the hall and the door was burst open. ‘Texas turned and looked. It was Mark! ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. 7 | 21 go-as-you- He had swept the yearlings at Fort Clinton before him that way and he thought to CHAPTER V. IN WHICH TEXAS GETS INTO TROUBLE. Texas sprang to his feet in an instant, all his wrath aflame. Mark had come in hurried, for he had evidently been run- ning. ‘What happened——’’ he began, but: he got no further. ‘*VYou durnation confounded coward!’”’ roared Texas. ‘‘Whar did you git the nerve to show yo’ face round hyar?”’ ““Why Texas!’ exclaimed Mark, in amazement. ‘Texas was prancing up and down the room, his fingers twitching, ‘*T jest tell you, sah, they- ain’t no room in my room fo’ a.,durnation coward that sneaks off when he’s got a fight. Now [——”’’ ‘I left word for you,’’ said Mark, in- terrupting him. ‘Word for me! Word for me!’’ howled the other. ‘‘You’re a durnation liar, sah !?? Mark’s face was as white as a sheet, but he kept his temper. Now, Leds,” he -bepan | again, soothingly. ‘‘Now Texas——”’ ‘‘Take that, too, will ye?’’ sneered Texas. ‘‘You’re coward enough to swal- low that too, hey? Wonder how much more you'll stand. ‘Try that, durn ye!”’ And before Mark could raise his arm the other sprang forward and dealt him a stinging blow upon the face. Mark stepped back, his whole frame quivering. ‘How much??? he repeated slowly. “NOt thats? F And then just as slowly he took off his coat. : ‘Right, hey??? laughed Texas. ‘‘Durn- ation! Ready?’ he added, flinging his own jacket onthe floor and getting his great long arms into motion. ‘‘Ready ??? ““Ves,’? said Mark. ‘‘I am ready.”’ And in an instant the other leaped for- ward, just as he had done at Fort Clin- ton, except that he omitted the yelling, being indoors with a sentry near by. Physically two fighters were never more equally matched; no one to look at them could have picked the winner, for both were giants. But there was a-differ- ence apparent before very long. Texas fought in the wild and savage style of the prairie, nip-and-tuck, please; and he was wild with anger. do it again. Mark had another style, a style: that Texas had never seen. He learned a good deal about it in a very few minutes. Texas started with a rush, striking right and left with all the power of his arms; and Mark simply stepped to one side and let the wall stop Texas. That made Texas angrier still if such a thing can be imagined. Heturned and made another dash, this time aiming a savage blow at his opponent’s head, In it was all the power of the Texan’s great right arm, and it was meant to kill. Mark moved his head to one side and let the blow pass, stopping the rush with a firm prod in the other’s chest; then he stepped aside and waited for another rush. For he did not want to hurt his excited room- mate if he could help it. A repetition of this had no effect upon Texas, however, except to increase his fury; and Mark found that he was fast getting mad himself. A glancing blow upon the head that brought blood capped the climax, and Mark geritted his teeth and got to work. ‘Texas made another lunge, which Mark dodged, and then be- fore the former could stop Mark caught him a crushing blow upon the jaw which made his teeth rattle. Texas staggered back, and Mark followed him-up rapidly, planting blow after blow upon the body of his wildly striking opponent. And in ~ a few moments ‘Texas, the invincible Texas, was being rapidly pummelled in- © to submission. **T’ll leave his face alone,’’ thought Mark, as he aimed a blow that half para- Iyzed..the: othet’s' right: wrist, ~ ‘{Hor 1 don’t want the cadets to know about this.” And just then he landed an extra hard crack upon the other’s chest, and ‘Texas went down in a corner. ‘‘Want any more??? inquired Mark; gravely. Texas staggered to his feet and made one more rush, only to be promptly laid out again. ‘I guess that’s enough,’’? thought Mark, as the other lay still and gasped. oo ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. d ot guess that’s enough for poor Texas.’ And so saying he took out his ia kerchief, wiped the blood from his face, and then opened the door and went out. “‘Tl’m sorry I had to do it,’’ he mused; “sorry as thunder! But he made me. And anyhow, He won’t want to fight very soon again.’ ee et et ‘CHAPTER VI. THE EXPLANATION. - Mark had barely, reached the head of the stairs before the morning gun sounded; and five minutes later he was in line at roll call: with the rest of his class. It is needless to say that T'exas was ab- Seiit, Texas woke up a while later, and stag- gered to his feet, feeling carefully of his ribs to make sure they were not really broken. And then he went out and inter- viewed a sentry in the hall. ‘Look a yere, mister,’’ ‘said he, ‘‘Where’s this yere durnation place they call the hospital ?”’ : The sentry directed him to await the proper hour, and ‘Texas spent the rest of that day, reported by the surgeon as ‘‘ab- sent from duty—sick—contusions.’’ And the whole class wondered why. Mark noticed that the cadets were looking at him at breakfast; and he no- ticed that the members of his own class were rather distant; but he gritted his teeth and made up his mind to face it out. “Tf even ‘Texas called me a coward,”’ he mused, ‘‘I can’t expect the rest of ’em to do otherwise.”’ And so it seemed; for that same morn- ing just after breakfast Corporal Jasper and Cadet Spencer paid a visit to Mark. *“The class would like, if you _ please, Mr. Mallory,’’ said the former, ‘‘an ex- planation of your conduct this morn- ing. bib, ‘‘And Iam _ sorry to say,’’ eon Mark, just as politely, ‘‘that I am un- able to give it. All I can say is that my conduct, though it may seem strange and mysterious, was unavoidable. If you will allow me, I shall be pleased to meet Mr. Williams to-morrow.’? ‘'We cannot allow it,’’ said Jasper, emphatically, ‘‘unless you consent to ex-. plain your action and can sieece in do- ing it satisfactorily, which you will par- don me for saying I doubt very much, you stand before the Academy branded as a coward.’’ ‘*Very well,’’ said: Mask, so. 19 And he turned away; and all through that long, weary morning and the after- noon too, Cadet Mallory was in coventry, and not a soul spoke a word to him, ex- cept Cadet pe at drill. And he was frigid. Cadet Powers was teleased from the hospital ‘‘cured’’ that evening after sup- per; and he limped upstairs to his room, and sat down to think about himself, and to philosophize upon the vanities of life and the follies of ambition. Mark did not come up until ‘‘tattoo’’ sounded, and so Texas had plenty of time. He felt very meek just then; he wasn’t angry any more, and he’d had plenty of time also to. think over what a fool he had been in not. listening to Mark’s explanation of his absence. For ‘Texas had been suddenly ' convinced that Mark was no coward after all. While he sat there, a piece of paper sticking out from under the bureau caught his eye. ‘Texas was getting very neat recently under West Point discipline ; he picked that paper up, and read as fol- lows: ‘‘T’ll-be back in time to fight. Ex- plain later. Trust me. Mark.’’ let. it be ‘‘Durnation!’’ cried Texas, springing up from his chairand wrenching a dilapi- dated shoulder. ‘‘Durnation—ouch! He told me he did that—and I called him a Nacil? ‘Texas wae up and down, and mused some more. Then it occurred to him there might be more paper under that bureau to explain things. He got down, painfully, and fished out another crumpled note. And he read that too: “Dear Mr. Mallory: I am in deep trouble and I need your aid at once. You can tell how serious the trouble is by the © fact that I ask you to come to me imme- diately. If you care to do a generous and helpful act pray do not refuse. Sincerely yours, ‘Mary Adams,”’ mi “® ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. 493 The letter was roughly scrawled on a pad, and when Texas finished reading it, he flung it on the floor and went and glared at himself in the mirror. ‘Vou gosh durnation blanked idiot he muttered, shaking his fist at himself. ‘Here them ole cadets went an’ fooled Mark Mallory again, an’ you—bah!”’ Texas was repentant through and through by that time; he grabbed up his cap savagely and made for the door, with a reckless disregard of sore joints. He hobbled downstairs and out of barracks, and caught Mark by the arm. just as Mark was coming in. “Well, Texas?’ inquired Mark, smil- ing. “Hust place,’’ said Texas, briefly, ‘(want to thank you fo’ lickin’ me.’ ‘“Welcome,’’ said Mark. ‘Second place, do it agin if I ever lose my temper.’’ ‘CWelcome,’’ said Mark. “Third place, I want to ’pologize.”’ ‘What's up? What’s happened to con- vince you?’ ‘Nothin’ much,’’ said Texas, ‘‘only I been a’ findin’ out what a durn fool I am. Hones’ looked into the other’s pleading grey eyes be saw that Texas meant it. ‘‘Hones’, now, this yere’s fust time I ever ’polo- [ _ gized in my life. An’ I’m durnation sorry.’ And Mark took him by the hand. They were friends again from that mo- ment. ‘*T jist saw that second note from Mary Adams upstairs,’’? explained Texas, an’ then I knowed them ole cadets had fooled you that way agin. Say, Mark, you’re mos’ as big a fool as me—mos’. ie “That note was genuine,’? answered Mark. ‘‘And then as he saw Texas’ amazement, he led him aside and ex- plained, ‘‘I’ll tell you about it,’’ said he, ‘‘for I can trust you not to tell But I can’t explain to the rest of the class, and I won’t, either, though they may call me coward if they choose. ‘CA drummer boy came up here last night—or rather, this morning. He woke ine up and gave me that note, swore it was genuine too, aud I believed him in the end. As you see, Mary Adams wanted to see me, and she wasin a desperate now, Mark,’? and as Mark, hurry about it. Well, I debated over it for a long time; at first I thought I wouldn’t, for I was afraid of court-mar- tial; but then as I thought of her in dis- tress I made up my mind to risk it, and I went. As it turned out, old man, you’d have been ashamed of me if I had’nt. There are worse things than being called a coward and one of ’em’s being a. coward. “T found her in great trouble, as she said. She has a brother, a fellow of about twenty-two, I guess. She lives with her widowed mother and he takes care of them. Ithink they are poor. Anyway this brother had gotten two or three hundred dollars from his employer to take a trip out West. He had fallen in with a rather tough crowd down in the village, and they were busy making him spend it as fast as he could. That was the situation.”? ‘‘Durnation Nexas ‘The problem was to get him away. The girl hadn’t a friend on earth to call on, and she happened to think of me. She begged ime to try to get him away. And Ill tell you one thing, too, Texas. The cadets say she’s a flirt and all that. She may be. I haven’t had a chance to find out, and I don’t propose to; but a girl that thinks as much of her brother as she does, and does as much for him, is not beyond respect by a good sight. I was teally quite taken with her last night. ‘‘Beware the serpent,’’ put in Texas, lauenine. | \‘She’s pretty, Vim told; Go on.’ ‘Well, I found him, after a couple of hours’ search, in a tough dive, with a crowd of loafers hanging on tohim. I got him out, but I had to knock down——’’ “Hey! cried Texas, springing up in excitement: “Had a Geht,. did) yer Durnation, man! why didn’t you take me long?” “T didn’t know I was going to fight,”’ said Mark, laughing. ‘Aud did you lek ein 2) “JT only had to lick two and then the rest ran.’ . Texas sighed resignedly, and Mark Welt On wr tough,’? commented 24 | ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. “T took him home asI said, and left Mark, youdunno how a Texas man is him with her. I got home just in time withagun. Mos’ of ’em ’d ruther sell for reveille.’? their wives. An’ I’m a goin’ to give you ‘°Time to have me call you names and this to show that—er—dog on .it—that to lick me blue, for the same which I ther’ ain’t no hard feelin’s, you know.’ have jest thanked yo,’’ added Texas, his ‘*And Ill take it,’’ said Mark, getting eyes suspiciously moist. ‘‘An’, look a hold of Texas’ other hand at the same yere, ole man’’—Texas slung his hand time—‘‘take it if it’s only to keep you around to his hip pocket and ‘‘pulled’’ a from carrying it. And there aren’t dny beautiful silver-mounted revolver, loaded hard feelings.’’ ‘to the brim’’—‘‘Look a yere, Mark. ‘his. yere gun, 1 ain*t ever gone ont ’thout it fo? ten year. She’s a——”? ‘“You don’t mean to say you’ve had it The next West Point novelette will be on up here!’ | entitled ‘‘Fun and Frolics at West Point; ‘'Sho?,” said ‘Texas, ‘an’. I. come or, Mark Mallory’s Clever Rescue,’ by durnation near usin’ it on you, too. Lieutenant Frederick Garrison, U. S. A. [THE END. | | * ¥ * € # eo € A WILD NIGHT-RIDE. pave wEeres across his lap, but I fancied he knew even less of its WIT nine o’clock one September evening I use than I did. As we started he sat, without noticing took the coach which left Custer City to me, twirling a slight mustache, and humming a tune. 2 i go to Sydney, Nebraska. A coach, I sup- ‘‘A fresh gamester, if one at all,’’ Isaid to myself B| pose it should be called, though on the uponasecondlookathim. = _ : 8] plains this vehicle, which has the driver’s The old man had noarms in sight. The driver no seat on the same level as the passengers’ «doubt regarded him as out of the fight in any event. seats, is called a ‘‘hack.’’ As we rolled on up into Buffalo Gap ] had a few A tin lamp, fastened in one corner of the coach, dis- | words of conversation with my companions. I learned covered to me two passengers within asI entered and that the elder was an lowa farmer who had come out took my seat. One was an old gentleman, apparently to see what he could do in the new mines, but he had ) weak and ill, for, although it was not a cold night, he been ill with mountain-fever, and afterward attacked .- was muffled in a coarse, heavy ulster overcoat. More-- by rheumatism, so that he had been forced to abandon over, so much of his face as I could see between a gray _—his projects and return to the Hast. beard which almost covered it and the rim of a slouch The young fellow said he was from New York. ‘‘Neh_ 4 hat was pale and thin, and the eyes looked sunken | Yawk,’’ he pronounced it. : : \ and unnatural. At least, soit struck meatacursory | 1 soon became sleepy, and leaning back in my corner, Lae glance. took such momentary naps as the nature of the road. The other passenger was a young fellow of twenty- permitted. At eleven o’clock we made a brief halt ata bi two or twenty-three years, I judged, decidedly dandi- temporary stage station, where the driver’s four-in- \ \ fied in his dress for that region. He wore a stiff hat | hand team was exchanged for fresh horses. ae and a stand-up collar encircled by a neat tie, and had 1 peeped out, and got a glimpse of the teams, of two ae ona dark suit, which was an unusual ‘‘get-up’’ for men with a Jantern, of a low structure of sod faintly that region, and one which at once aroused my sus- Outlined, and of the black sideof a pine-covered moun- i eed. picion, for the only persons I had seen about the tain beyond. The night was quite dark, with floating sb mining towns dressed in anything like that fashion were Clouds and no moon. It became somewhat lighter when - gamblers, a class of menI had madeit a point to we passed out of the gap a little later, as I noted avoid. through a crack in the swaying ‘‘flap’’ opposite. Just before setting out the driver came to the side of The road was now smoother, and I settled back in the vehicle, thrust in a light Winchester carbine, and my corner, as my companions had done, to get a little placed it between my knees. solid sleep if possible. I dozed off for a time, but was ‘‘T see you didn’t have no gun,’’ said he, ‘‘an? I awakened by the groaning of the old man beside me. a keep a couple of extra ones fer sech.’? He seemed to be in great pain, and writhed about : ‘That was all. No further explanation was necessary uervously. I asked him what was the matter. He re- 4 in those days. ° plied that the rheumatism in his leg was nearly killing ioe J took charge of the weapon, although I was as little him. hh expert in its use as I was in handling the revolver in ‘(I wish the driver’d let me aout when we git to the my hip pocket, which, indeed, I had never yet dis- next crick. He’ll stop likely, aud I’ve jest got to charged. stretch my legs or die. Yesee, I’m troubled with , A stage ride from Custer to Sydney at that time was rheumatism, an’ th’ ain’t no room in hyer to git the ad a trip not altogether likely to be without its adven- cramp out of my legs.’ tures, and for once ] regretted my unfamiliarity with I told him I would speak to the driver when we | ‘*shooting irons.’? halted, a few minutes later, at the bank of a stream. \ It oceurred to me that if. we were ‘‘jumped by road I thrust my head out at the side, and asked that the eee agents,’’ as the phrase went, the freebooters of the old gentleman might be let out for a moment to stretch roate would have little to fear from the occupants of his legs. the hack, whether they got much money or not. ‘All right’? said the driver, as he clambered down There were usually valuables of some sort inthe from his own seat. ‘‘I’m goin? ter stop there an’ let iron box under the driver’s seat. the hosses take a drink.”’ The young man who sat opposite me had a carbine I helped the old man to dismount, steadying him by 9 es ROR 6 “ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. the arm as he got down. He seemed to have a good deal of difficulty in alighting, and groaned in a most lugubrious fashion, The flap swung to after him, as I had unbuttoned it all around to let him out. The young man opposite me lay curled up on his seat, but I could see that his eyes were wide open, and that he was eye- ing me with a sharp, keen glance. My eyes probably responded when they fell upon bis, for he straightened up in an alert fashion and leaned toward me. ‘‘Say,?? he whispered, ‘‘do you think that old chap’s all right? Strikes me that groaning of his was put on. What do you think?”’ : The question startled me no less than the young fellow’s manner, and I was about to make some reply when a gun or pistol shot rang in our ears, followed by a yell either of pain or surprise, and a lurch of the coach threw me forward against my companion’s knees. Either the shot or the yell had startled our team, and we went down the bank and into the stream with a lunge. I heard shots—one, two, three—as we splashed through the water. Then more yells, loud and fierce. My notion of what had happened or was happening was confused for a moment, and then I saw my com- rade-—-for the light still burned—crawling through to the driver’s seat as we went careering up the opposite bank. A second later he had gathered the reins, which were tied in front, and while he held them with one hand he grasped the seat with the other. Then he leaned out and glanced back. Luckily the horses, which were going ata gallop— they were animals which needed no urging—kept to the road, and the cool-headed young fellow was not pitched out. ‘ ‘‘Let me get at them! Load the guns for me, ’n’ let the team go. We might’s well smash as_be riddled by bullets. Here, here’s two boxes of cartridgés!”’ I dropped back to the other seat and gave place to him. He threw his carbines over the back of the hind seat and began firing. Crack! crack! crack! stream of fire poured out of the back of the stage, and before I had filled the magazine of my gun, his was empty. He snatched mine, however, and thrust his own back at me. ‘ Loading was awkward business at first, as IT had to feel for the magazine, but I managed soon to thrust the cartridges into my gun as fast as he could work the lever of his own. Themen, whoever and whatever they were, rode up to within twenty-five or thirty yards, and, spreading out, opened fire on us. ‘‘Keep close down in the bottom!’’ shouted my com- rade, as he kept on with his firing. The highwaymen did not come nearer, evidently fearing too great exposure to the stream of shots from the hack, and my courage rose to something near the level of my companion’s. I caught glimpses as I glanced up now and then of a plunging horseman with shadowy, outstretched right arm, from which flashed blaze after blaze of light. All at once we began descending intoa gully, and the hack bounced from side to side so violently that it was impossible for us to do anything but cling to the sides of the box. ‘‘Tt’s all right!’’ rang my companion’s voice in my ear, shortly after we had begun the descent; ‘‘they’ve ~ given up. They can’t ride along the side of the gulch, and daren’t follow straight behind. There’s a station close by, too. I remember the road.’’ __ : Sure enough, the men had dropped back, and the shots had ceased. My cool, brave comrade now clam- bered over me, and in some way got into the front seat of the jumping coach. A moment later I noticed that we were slowing up and running more steadily. Five minutes more and we halted, what was left of us, safe and sound in front of a stage station. Our story was soon told, our horses exchanged, and a fresh driver doubly armed put with us. Such little accidents did not stop stages in those parts, There was no danger, they told us, from that same gang. The three men who were left promised to go im- mediately and look after our other driver. It was only the darkness and the motion of the vehi- cle and horses that had saved us from being hit. We found several bullet marks about the coach next morn- ing; one of them, well aimed, had gone through the back seat at an angle and into the front, and must have passed directly between us. My respect for my young comrade was greatly raised by the events of that night, and was further increased by an after acquaint- ance which discovered his real modesty and worth. On my return to the ‘‘Hills’’ I learned that our driver had been picked up at the crossing of the creek, badly wounded. As for the rheumatic old man, he was of course a rascal in league with the band who had attacked us. It seemed to me that a steady SISOS WINNING WITH THE WHEEL OR The Secret of Ironwood Inn A Bicycle-Detective Story of Surpassing Interest | | | By VICTOR ST. CLAIR | | | SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. Kerl Kent, a student of Warwick Academy in New Englana, while wheeling along a bluff road with Lute Waystead, a a fellow student, sees’another lad named Arthur Kent strike a smaller boy known as Phin Warden, witha whip. Kerl in- terferes and thereby incurs the enmity of Arthur, Near Warwick (which is a very aristocratic town) is a manufacturing yillage called Factoryville. An intense rivalry exists between the boys of the two villages, a rivalry which finally leads to an important boat race. Arthur Kent, who is the stroke oar of the Warwick crew, is relied on to make the race a suc- eess tor their side. At the last momenit, he does not turn up, and the eaptain of the crew receives a note from him to the effect that his wother is dying and he has left for home. The captain asks Kerl to take the vacant place and the latter eonsents. That evening Kerl looks for his friend, Phin Warden, but finds that he has disappeared. Kerl is worried and notifies the town’s special officer, Mr. Plum. The following morning while Mr. Plum is on his way to-the races he suddenly sees the lifeless body of a lad lying upon the rocks bordering a little stream. 1tis Arthur Kent. \ 6 CHAPTER IV. THE RACE COMMENCSS. 4 Oi} ANWHILE Kerl Kent had reached the 4}. scene of the race, to find every one anxiously waiting for him. ‘¢) want to be promptly on hand,”’ said Captain Clarendon. : ‘*We have plenty of time, and as we row down to the starting point | want to practice you a little. I don’t like this going into a match with so little practice, but I think we under- stand each other pretty well,’? said Kerl. Warwick’s boat races had never failed to call outa big crowd of spectators, and this one was no exception. In fact never had such an assemblage been witnessed on the banks of the river, while excitement was run- ning bigh. The stream was wide, smooth and exceedingly favor- able for a match of the kind, and knowing that the _ veal battle was to be fought on the last quarter the majority of the people stationed themselves where they could see this part of the race. But there were enough at the starting point to give three lusty cheers when the Warwick boys glided into position, presenting a handsome appearance in their natty uniforms. ‘That isn’t Arthur Kent at the stroke oar,’’ declared a close observer. ‘‘It looks like—it is Kerl Kent.’ ‘¢ Arthur, Kent was called home last evening by the critical illness of his mother, so Kerl has taken his place. He will more than fill it, too. Notice what a masterly stroke he owns.’’ ‘¢But he’s oneof the Bravo’s crew, or at least he was a short time ago, and I have heard it whispered that it is a contrived plan to beat the Warwick boys. If you look closely you will see that he does not take any in- terest in the work.’’ There seemed to be others of the same opinion, and in an incredibly short time the story was told from one to another that the Warwick boys were in more danger from their own crew than from their rivals. In the midst of these excited comments wilder cheers than any given yet announced the approach of the rival club, the Bravos of Factoryville. As they swept into position it was noticed by the wise ones that Kerl Kent, the stroke oar of the War- wick Club, nodded familiarly to the rival captain, who responded in like manner and seemed about to speak when the order to be in readiness for the start stopped everything else, A pistol shot was the signal for the opening of the race, andas the sharp report rang out on the still morning air the keen edges of sixteen oars suddenly dipped into the clear water and the rival boats leaped forward side by sice. This was the cause of renewedshouts from both sides, for the factory boys were well represented by friends, who were loud and fearless in their boasts of their champions. At first the cheering was about even, but pretty soon it began to fall off. on the Warwick side, as it was seen that their boat was losing ground. ‘‘We are beat at the very outset!’’ some one ex- claimed. ‘‘it’s going to prove just as I told you.”’ The Bravos were pulling at a tremendous stroke, which if they could carry to the finish seemed sure to win the victory. Their admirers were shouting them- selves hoarse. The Bravos had set a stoke at thirty-eight, while the Warwick crew were having easy work at thirty-five. ‘Kent will soon make it up,’’ thought Captain Clar- endon, as he saw the gap widening between them and their exultant rivals. But when half a mile—three- fourths—had been passed and Kerl Kent showed no signs of awakening to the opportunity fast slippiag away from them, he grew frantic. ‘‘Tt’s just as I expecied!’’? said Ernest Overton, in a piercing whisper. ‘‘We are not half trying and they are pulling right away from us!”’ Still undisturbed by the excited feelings of his com- panions, Kerl Kent continued to hold that masterly stroke of his, which no one on Warwick river could match. But of what avail would it be when it came too late? The mile point was passed. Only half a mile remained, and the Bravos still gaining! Mingled with the triumphant criesof the exultant visitors were hisses and hoots of rage from the Warwick spectators. ‘